


Merry Christmas, Virtch

by AK_Ruston



Series: Musicality: songs that inspire [6]
Category: Figure Skating RPF, Olympics RPF
Genre: Alanis Morissette - Freeform, Baking, Christmas, Christmas Music, Christmas songs, Eating cookies, F/M, Festive folies, Musicality, Mystery of Scott’s missing cross, New Year's Eve, New Year's Kiss, fun between friends, leaving the ending open, lil bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:48:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21781711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AK_Ruston/pseuds/AK_Ruston
Summary: “You’re drunk and alone and baking cookies. That sounds like a...pun intended...recipe for disaster, T.” - Scott Moir🎉 Now with a bonus New Year’s Eve chapter!
Relationships: Scott Moir & Tessa Virtue, Scott Moir/Tessa Virtue
Series: Musicality: songs that inspire [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1060466
Comments: 70
Kudos: 164





	1. Merry Christmas, Virtch: Part 1

Tessa Virtue was dancing in her kitchen.

Of course she was.

Her favourite Christmas music was blasting from the small speaker on her dining room table and she was feeling the rhythm, letting it guide her in circles around her kitchen island.

The four eggnogs she had already downed had helped her feel the rhythm; the ratio of rum to eggnog may have skewed slightly more towards the rum end of things.

Nope.

It had most certainly been all rum with a splash of eggnog.

She _was_ retired and it _was_ Christmas, so calories didn’t count. Right? Besides, her next photoshoot wasn’t until mid-January and she could easily sweat off the few holiday pounds that she may or may not gain on one of the pieces of gym equipment in her basement, or at that new hot yoga place she tried once with Jordan. Tessa complained the whole time about how hot it was but afterwards raved about how incredible it was to anyone that would listen. She had worked up such a sweat with all her kitchen dancing and had to remove her fuzzy pink pyjama pants, tossing them towards her staircase but missing by more than a metre.

She was home alone and the shades were drawn, so she didn’t care one bit that she was now bopping along to Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer in only a Toronto Maple Leafs t-shirt that she probably, no, _most definitely_ had swiped from Scott last year, and a pair of lacy emerald green bikini cut panties; an impulse purchase from the other day when she was buying the last of her gifts at the mall. A sort of Merry-Christmas-to-me gift.

What?

She liked being festive, even if it was where no one else would see. She would know, and that’s all that mattered. Well, that’s not entirely true. She was kind of seeing someone, but it was casual. Ish. _Casual-ish_. He was gone a lot for work and so was she. They were serious when they were in the same city, under the same blankets and he was balls deep inside of her, but when they went on their separate flights to their next destinations, there was no goodbye kiss. There were no text messages back and forth or late night phone calls whispering _I love you_ or _I miss you_. It’s all she really needed for now. She had to work on defining herself outside of the VirtueMoir brand and just needed that occasional itch scratched.

At least that’s what she kept telling herself.

Deep down she wanted more, but at the same time she was putting all of her focus and her energy now on her new career; whatever that may be. She was still finding herself and everyone around her told her that was _okay_ , even though it was more than daunting and she had cried over it in her therapist’s office on more than one occasion in the last few weeks.

She had Queens in the fall, _probably_ , unless something else cropped up that shoved her Masters ahead another year or three; she was nothing if not flexible. Until then, she had most days already accounted for the first half of 2020, because if she wasn’t, she was home, dancing around her kitchen, three and a half sheets to the wind drunk at two in the afternoon on the Monday before Christmas.

Gene Autry stopped singing about reindeer and the transition between that and the next song was like an uncomfortable pause, a little too long. She remembered Scott told her once she could adjust that and she suggested he do it because that wasn’t in her wheelhouse.

He never got around to it.

Dolly Parton’s voice abruptly started right into Hard Candy Christmas, making Tessa stop spinning around as she listened to the sad voice filling the room.

_Hey, maybe I'll dye my hair_

_Maybe I'll move somewhere_

_Maybe I'll get a car_

_Maybe I'll drive so far_

_That I'll lose track_

_Me, I'll bounce right back_

_Maybe I'll sleep real late_

_Maybe I'll lose some weight_

_Maybe I'll clear my junk_

_Maybe I'll just get drunk on apple wine_

_Me, I'll be just_

_Fine and dandy_

_Lord it's like a hard candy Christmas_

_I'm barely getting through tomorrow_

_But still I won't let_

_Sorrow bring me way down_

Dolly’s right, Tessa thought, but at the same time she wondered how that song even got onto her playlist. It wasn’t one of her regulars.

_Hey, maybe I'll learn to sew_

_Maybe I'll just lie low_

_Maybe I'll hit the bars_

_Maybe I'll count the stars until dawn_

_Me, I will go on_

_Maybe I'll settle down_

_Maybe I'll just leave town_

_Maybe I'll have some fun_

_Maybe I'll meet someone_

_And make him mine_

_Me, I'll be just_

_Fine and dandy_

_Lord it's like a hard candy Christmas_

_I'm barely getting through tomorr—_

Tessa stumbled quickly across the kitchen towards her dining room and hitting several buttons on the speaker in an attempt to make the song go away. She wanted Christmas to be happy, her real life was unhappy enough right now. The tears in her eyes clouded her vision but eventually she found the right one and Bing Crosby’s voice started crooning about how he was dreaming of a white Christmas.

Tessa slumped down onto one of her dining room chairs and put her head down on the wood tabletop. “I’ll be just fine and dandy,” she mumbled, her hot, rum-scented breath bouncing back onto her skin. “I'm barely getting through tomorrow, but still I won't let sorrow get me way down. Me, I will go on.”

She wasn’t sure how long she sat there with her forehead pressed against the table thinking about the words Dolly had sung but by the time she lifted her head, George Strait was yeehawing about Christmas Cookies.

Tessa gave the speaker an annoyed look, then a wistful smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. She must have inadvertently selected _their_ Christmas music playlist instead of her own. She knew for a fact that this song was only on _his_ playlist because they had fucked to it once. Not last Christmas but the one before that, and afterwards every time one of them mentioned Christmas cookies, there were side eyes or snickers. Another inside joke to add to the collection.

She pulled the collar of her shirt up over her nose and inhaled deeply. The shirt no longer smelled like Scott but she had banked more than two decades worth of scent memories. She closed her eyes and imagined the shirt smelling like him; like home. She was going to miss the hell out of him this Christmas, although last Christmas they hadn’t been together or spoken either, but this year felt heavier, more finite. They were _done_ done. In every single facet, _done_.

It didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt; she loved him. She had been in love with him at many times in their career, but this was different. This was a hard line drawn in the concrete type of different. No more competing, no more skating, no more projects, no more them. Maybe she would run into him once or twice a year if they happened to be in the London area at the same time.

“Who am I kidding, neither of us are ever really home,” she mumbled.

There were the two trips to Europe they were scheduled to attend in the spring and... _his wedding_. The thought of watching him recite vows to another woman, especially _her_ , made Tessa dry heave. The more she mulled the more depressed she got.

“Enough!” she finally said out loud to herself, shoving the chair back from the table.

Tessa marched back into her kitchen and poured herself another tumbler glass full of rum and topped it off with a little splash of eggnog. She chugged it down in one go and dry heaved again as she slammed the glass down on her marble counter top.

“Enough of that too. You’re better than this, Tess. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. You started this ending and you finished it. Retirement from everything is what I...what _we_ both need to move forward in the healthiest way possible,” she mumbled out loud, mostly trying to convince herself that they were indeed doing the right thing even though it felt wrong in every possible way.

She eyed the bottle of rum as she climbed up on top of the kitchen island counter. “No more drinking alone,” she insisted, hoping she would listen to her words of wisdom. She sat down, crossed her legs under herself, and snatched up the well-loved recipe card from where it lay beside her knee. She ran her finger over the neat cursive writing that her beloved grandmother had penned decades ago. Her chin quivered and her eyes filled with tears; she always missed her Nonee just that extra bit at this time of year.

Kate had suggested Tessa try baking something this year to keep herself busy, and Tessa had taken a good hour that morning flipping through her mother’s box of recipe cards that once belonged to Kate’s mother.

Her mouth had watered as she read through each card filled with the words butter and sugar and what seemed like four million calories per bite _._ She finally settled on her grandmother’s shortbread cookie recipe, it had _sounded_ easy enough. Tessa had stopped at the grocery store on her way home, buying triple the amount of ingredients that she needed to cover the inevitable _whoopsies_ that were going to happen. Kate had offered to come over and help but Tessa was determined to try this on her own. How hard could it be?

She hopped off the counter and pulled a mixing bowl out of the cupboard. She measured carefully and stirred all the ingredients together exactly like her Nonee instructed. It seemed very gooey, but she assumed it would improve once she rolled out the dough with her rolling pin. It hadn’t, but she managed to get it flat enough that she could press the metal cookie cutters Kate had sent with her into the dough: a tree, a star, an angel, a candy cane, a mitten, and a snowman.

Michael Bublé finished singing _All I Want For Christmas Is You_ and during another dramatic pause, she heard loud knocking on her front door. Tessa sighed and half considered just ignoring it, but she did have some online orders scheduled to arrive and perhaps something needed signing for. She wiped her hands on a towel and made her way to the door. She looked through the peephole and immediately jumped back in surprise.

“Scott,” she breathed out slowly, emphasizing the T’s at the end.

_Is it possible to will somebody into existence? Or did I just know he was going to stop by today? Is that why I kept thinking about him?_

She slowly opened the wood door and stood in front of the screen door, eyeing him up and down, not sure if he was real or if she was just daydreaming or if it was a delivery man who just looked like Scott. _He is holding a cardboard box in his hands, so it could just be a delivery man?_

“T are you gonna invite me in, or are you just gonna let the neighbours gawk at you standing nearly naked at your front door?”

Tessa’s eyes went wide as she tugged at the bottom of her (his) shirt to hide her panties, which only emphasized the fact that she was not wearing a bra as her nipples had firmed up from the blast of cold air. She shuffled backwards into her house, allowing Scott to step inside.

“Did I wake you?” he asked, his eyes giving her entire body a once over. _Twice_.

She shook her head and was trying to come up with a lie as to why she had been too hot, and why she was dancing alone, and why she was drunk as a skunk at two, no, now three in the afternoon on the Monday before Christmas.

“Shit, do you have someone over?” he asked, his eyes going wide in horror as he saw her pants lying in a puddle in the middle of the hallway. He clenched his jaw and took a step backwards, his round ass bumping into the screen door. He didn’t really want her to answer the question, he was about to toss the box at her that he had been holding and just leave before she could answer but she barked back a hard _no_ before spinning around and disappearing into her kitchen.

He waited several minutes, but she did not return. He was still standing at her front door wearing his winter jacket and shoes and holding the box when he heard her string five swear words together. He quickly toed off his shoes and followed the sound of her continued cursing.

“What in the fuck are you—”

“Baking Christmas cookies. What the hell does it look like I’m doing?” she muttered through clenched teeth as she tried to squish the ripped dough back into the shape of a star. She had forgotten to sprinkle a bit of flour on the counter and the gooey dough she rolled out had stuck like a motherfucker to the countertop and her rolling pin and the cookie cutters and her hands. It was a horrifying mess.

Scott hummed a note of intrigue as he slid onto one of her bar stools at the kitchen island. “Looks like a disaster, but carry on.”

Tessa felt rumbling in her belly and before she could stop it, she burped loudly. She clamped her doughy hand over her mouth, eyes wide in horror as she looked at Scott and then she burst into a fit of giggles.

“Excuse you. Did you lose all your manners when you retired, T?”

“Sorry, did you want some eggnog?”

Scott unzipped his jacket, shrugged it off, and laid it on the barstool beside him. “Is that what you’ve gotten yourself sauced on? Your breath smells like the inside of a rum distillery.”

“Did you stop by just to chirp at me or is there an actual reason you’re here?”

“Rude, but yes I’ll have a glass of eggnog and Mom asked me to drop off this box of Christmas cookies for you on my way to—”

“Don’t,” she stopped him. She couldn’t stand to hear the words airport or Florida or wherever the hell it was that he was going to. She knew full well her house was really only on his way to the airport since the skate shop moved north to Komoka earlier that year.

Scott opened the box and took out a gingerbread cookie. “Looks like you might not need all these,” he taunted and took a bite.

“I’m telling Alma that you ate my cookies!” she huffed, putting a doughy hand on her hip.

“Maybe don’t phrase it that way, eh?” he said with a snicker.

Tessa blushed slightly, thinking once again of that stupid Christmas cookies song and Scott fucking her senseless on her kitchen island; the very one she was now standing in front of. So she doubled down on her efforts to scrape mutilated shapes of dough off of her counter and not make eye contact with Scott.

Scott gave up waiting for his drink and got up to help himself. “Do you want another?”

Tessa bit down on her bottom lip and tried to count how many she’d already had but all she could figure was definitely more than three. _They were small glasses_. “Sure, what the hell. It’s the holidays.”

She watched Scott pour three quarters eggnog and one quarter spiced rum into two glasses and sit back down at the counter.

“Cheap pour,” Tessa muttered as she snatched the cookie sheet off the counter and spun around on the ball of her foot to put it into the hot oven.

Scott looked up just as Tessa bent over to open the oven door, the back of her shirt had slid up to reveal her still perfect ass in her green panties.

“Are those new?” Scott’s eyes went wide as he realized he said that out loud, instead of in his head.

Tessa stumbled a bit at his words, nearly losing her balance completely and almost landing on the open oven door.

“Whoa there,” Scott yelped, jumping off his barstool and sending it crashing to the floor. “Careful, T,” he whispered next to her ear as he grabbed her elbow, steadying her on her feet and then reached around her to close the oven door.

He was too close, her heart rate had dramatically increased, as did her breathing. His fingers felt like they were burning through her skin. _We’re done. We’re not doing this anymore._ “I’m fine,” she insisted, yanking her elbow away from his grip.

“Tessa. You’re drunk and almost fell onto the hot oven door,” he said slowly, trying to get her to understand the severity of what could have happened as he followed her around the kitchen island.

“So what if I’m drunk?” she grumbled, picking up the fallen barstool.

“You’re drunk and alone and baking Christmas cookies. That sounds like a...pun intended...recipe for disaster, T.”

“I’m not alone, you’re here,” she snarked, waving one hand at him. “I still don’t get why you’re still here.”

“Fine, you were drunk and alone until I got here and you _still_ haven’t told me why you’re not wearing pants,” Scott said as he moved close to Tessa again and tugged on the hem of the shirt he now recognized as his own.

Tessa huffed and moved around Scott to grab her drink. She took a sip and moaned softly. “I always forget I like it better with the spiced rum. Thank you.”

Scott raised an eyebrow and then the other. “Virtch, are you listening to _my_ Christmas music?”

“No!” she scoffed.

“Since when do you like listening to Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer?”

“I don’t!” she insisted, putting her hand on her hip and taking another sip of her drink. “It’s a terrible song and should be banned from all playlists!”

“Well then why is it playing, T?”

Tessa blushed slightly as she tried to hide behind her glass. “I’m sure you can figure that out on your own, it was accidental by the way. It had nothing to do with the fact that I was missing you. Shit. I didn’t mean to say that.”

“You were...”

“I was _not_. Don’t you have a flight to catch?”

“No,” Scott insisted.

“You _said_ you stopped by here on your way to the airport!” Tessa bit back and took another swig of her drink.

“I did no such thing!” Scott cried out, he was getting tired of her accusatory attitude. “You cut me off and filled in the blank on your own!”

“So then elaborate while I go pee, just talk loud so I can hear you,” she said as she waltzed out of the kitchen towards the bathroom.

Scott’s eyes went wide and he shook his head. _I’ll wait until she’s back_. He sat back down at the counter and ran his fingers through his hair. _She actually missed me?_

Tessa skipped back into the kitchen several minutes later with her fuzzy pink pyjama pants wrapped around her neck like a scarf. “I was dancing and got hot.”

“Huh?” he asked, turning around on his chair, a goofy grin forming on his face at the sight of her.

“That’s why I’m not wearing pants. I was too hot, but I can put them back on if you—”

“S’ok, I’ve seen you in less,” he chuckled and took another sip of his drink.

Tessa blushed and buried her face in one of the fuzzy pant legs. _Why are we like this?_ She decided it was all the alcohol coursing through her body that made her want to jump Scott in that moment. The sexual tension felt high to her, although she was drunk and not thinking clearly. _I have to change the subject_. “Well since you’re here and don’t seem to be in a hurry to leave, I have some stuff that belongs to you that you might as well take. I’ll be right back.”

Scott put down his glass and coughed, his eggnog had gone down the wrong way; he hadn’t expected her to say that. _What could she possibly still have to give back to me?_


	2. Merry Christmas, Virtch: Part 2

Scott heard a crash come from somewhere upstairs followed by a loud yelp and several expletives. He grinned and shook his head as he got up off his barstool to see what the ruckus was all about.

“You okay there, Virtch?” Scott shouted, taking the stairs two at a time.

“Sort of,” she called back from her bedroom.

He found her sitting on the floor in front of her closet, surrounded by a pile of mostly open cardboard boxes and their spilled contents. “Are you hurt?”

“No, just got hit in the head by this stuff,” she laughed, waving her hand at the mess. _Everything is funnier when you’re drunk_. “I went to pull one box out and everything else came with it.”

“Do...you want help?” he asked cautiously, watching her push the mess around on the floor.

Tessa looked up at Scott and her expression quickly shifted from eye-crinkling laughter to stone cold serious.

“No!” she insisted and started pulling items out from the pile and throwing them at Scott’s feet. It was all things she had borrowed and never given back plus a few items he had left behind from last spring when he had been staying at her house. A t-shirt, a pair of wool mittens, his Babsocks that she needed because they were a different colour than hers, a lost cufflink that he had been looking for, a tie clip she had bought for him in Belgium, a photocopy of his passport and travel Visas—

“Tess—”

She ignored him and continued flinging things at him. A scarf she had bought for him when they were living in Montreal, another t-shirt, a pair of his sandals that she had found at the cottage, three pairs of boxer briefs—

“Tessa. Stop—”

“Why? Do you want back the shirt I’m wearing too?” she snapped and started pulling the Leafs t-shirt up over her head.

“God, no. Please, T, just stop this,” he insisted, pushing his fingers through his hair. “I don’t need any of this shit back.”

She pulled the shirt back down and sighed in an irritated manor. “Yes, you do. I’m starting fresh and you’re moving on. There won’t be another comeback or another Olympics, Scott. If I hold onto these things,” she paused as she rummaged through the pile. She tossed a few of her own keepsakes to the other side and wrapped her hand around the item she was really looking for, a dark blue velvet bag.

“T, _please_ ,” Scott begged when he saw the bag. He knew what was inside.

“You’re getting married, Scott. You’ve found yourself a new partner. _We’re_ fully and completely done, okay? We’ve talked this to death, but I need _this_ closure. _For me_. If I keep these things, I cannot move forward in a healthy way. I will constantly hold onto a tiny bit of hope that one day you‘ll come back to me.”

Scott nodded with tears in his eyes.

Tessa stood up and walked towards Scott. She grabbed one of his hands in hers and gave it a squeeze and then opened it flat. “That means this too,” she whispered, laying the velvet bag on his palm. “I want you to know, that I am happy for you. I wish nothing but the best for you both, but the cross that you gave to me—”

“T, don’t—”

“You told me we were endgame and that you loved me and that once we were done competing things would settle down and when you promised you had changed, _and I believed you_ , but really you hadn’t and you proved that to me in Japan—”

“Don’t do this!” Scott cried out, tears streaming down his face.

“No!” she barked. “You took the cross off your chain and gave it to me; you told me it was a promise. If we wanted one more cycle...to not end things on silver...that after we could finally...and I kept telling you no...and you kept insisting that you would be better for me...I can’t believe that I was stupid enough to ever believe you. Promises were broken, Scott. I had to put a stop to us,” she paused, waving her hand between them. “And after all the nonsense you continued to do this year, I had to pull the plug on our partnership too. You got what you wanted all along; your skating partner will be your wife. Give _her_ your cross to bear. There is no coming back to me now.”

Scott shook the bag over the palm of his other hand and watched the small item slide out. He laid eyes on his cross that he had not seen in five years.

“It’s not fair to deny me the chance to move on from us,” Tessa sobbed, a little more dramatically than necessary thanks to the alcohol, fat tears running down her cheeks.

“I never said you couldn’t,” Scott whispered, fingering the cold metal cross.

“I’m not some permanent fixture that will just always be here for you when you need to run away from your problems. It was a slap in the face how quickly I was replaced—”

“We’ve been over this, T. I’m _sorry_ —”

“I am too, Scott,” Tessa snapped back. “I'm sure she'd make a really excellent mother. Does she know how you told me you'd hold me until you died? That our love just wasn’t enough for you?”

“Stop!” Scott shouted; he had reached his breaking point. He clenched his fists; the one curled tightly around the cross had the four points digging harshly into his skin. This wasn’t exactly how he had planned to bring this up but she was now forcing it out of him. “Tessa! Enough! _Please_...I’m...we’re done.”

Scott started pacing back and forth in Tessa’s bedroom. He took a deep breath and continued. “She called things off, there won’t be a wedding. She threw the ring back at me, told me I was still too much in love with you and she wasn’t going to marry _another_ man who wasn’t really in love with her.”

“Wait... _what?_ ” Tessa gasped in disbelief. She frowned and took a step back from the path Scott was walking. Her stomach felt nauseous and her heart started beating faster, but she had a hard time knowing for sure if that was from the excessive rum or this unexpected news.

Scott sighed heavily, and stopped in front of Tessa. He could see the confusion and disbelief etched on her face. “If you had let me finish earlier,” he said softly. “I was trying to tell you then that I was stopping by your house on my way to take the ring to the jewellers. I had a whole joke line I’d worked out about it because something like this is hard to just bring up in regular conversation, but I guess I just did.”

“Scott,” she said, shaking her head, still in disbelief. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay? You seem okay?”

“I’m fine, I guess,” he shrugged and pushed the fingers of one hand through his hair. “I feel relieved actually? Like a weight has been taken off my shoulders. I guess I never really loved her...not the way I should have, anyways,” Scott sighed.

“I...I’m sorry, Scott. I didn’t know and I went into my angry rant directed at you and—”

Scott ignored Tessa for a moment and sniffed the air. He could smell something was _off_. “Do you smell that, T?”

“Shit! The cookies!” Tessa shouted as she scrambled towards her bedroom door, tripping over her own two feet and landing on her hands and knees.

“Careful, you’re drunk. You gotta move a little slower, Virtch,” Scott advised, his hand firmly wrapped around her bicep to once again steady her and tug her to her feet.

“I’m fine!” she shouted and wrenched herself away from Scott. She took off running down the stairs, but gripped the railing a little firmer than she usually would.

When she got to the oven, she pulled the door open and was hit in the face with a cloud of smoke.

“Shiiiit!” she whined and then coughed in reaction to the smoky air. She stood there, looking at her blackened festive shapes in the oven. _No amount of icing will fix that._

Scott was already opening doors and windows to air out the house by the time Tessa finally pulled the cookie sheet out of the oven. Her feeble attempt at baking had gotten off to a horrible start.

“I suck at this. I just don’t get it,” she grumbled, opening the garbage can and dumping the blackened cookies and parchment paper in the can. “I’m the black sheep at everything in my family, I guess.”

She slammed the empty baking sheet on top of her gas stove. As she turned around, Scott was walking back into the kitchen and she remembered what he had just told her upstairs.

_Scott._

_Poor Scott._

Her heart hurt for him. Even if he claimed he was okay, she knew he wasn’t completely telling the truth.

“Thanks for helping fix my mistake. I guess setting a timer would have been useful,” Tessa laughed sadly as she took another sip of her eggnog. She made a face and dry heaved.

“You okay, T?”

“Yeah, just too much rum. When did this throwing back of the ring thing happen?” Tessa asked softly as she poured the remainder of her eggnog into the sink. She felt gross and decided she needed to sober up; Scott needed her. Why else would he have hung around like he was? He always had gravitated to her when he was sad. She cursed herself for being drunk and not seeing the signs before she tore a strip off him upstairs. _Fuck_. _I feel horrible now._

“When you were in Thailand,” he said quietly, avoiding eye contact with her. His fingers fiddled with the corner of the cardboard box containing the cookies he had brought over.

_Shit_. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, moving around the island with her arms outstretched towards Scott. She knew he must be hurting, and even though she hadn’t much cared for his fiancée, she did care still about Scott, despite what he had done to her the last year and a half.

He took two steps forward, meeting her part way and pulled her in for a hug. _She always did give the best hugs._

“I shouldn’t have said those things upstairs, you’re right, I _am_ drunk and you know how I get—”

He pressed his nose into the sweet spot where her neck met her shoulder and inhaled deeply. “It’s okay, T. None of it was lies. The truth hurts sometimes but I deserved to hear it,” he mumbled into her shoulder.

She merely hummed against his chest as she rubbed her hands up and down his back. They stayed like that for a while; holding each other, breathing together, finding comfort in the only other person on earth that knew them better than they knew themselves.

“You sure you’re okay? Do you want to talk more about—”

“I’ll be okay, T. Thanks for the offer,” he said gently, pulling back from her. He held Tessa at arms length and smiled at her, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a way she hadn’t seen since before they broke up.

“Did you want to stay for a bit? I should give that recipe another go; I bought a shit load of ingredients,” she laughed, nodding her head towards the bags on her counter.

“Perhaps you just need some coaching for your second attempt?” Scott offered, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

“And what do you know about baking cookies?” she scoffed.

“I helped Mom make these,” he said with a grin while tapping his hand on the box of treats he had brought over.

She sighed and chewed on her bottom lip for a moment. She had wanted to conquer this on her own, baking was not a team sport, but it seemed Scott could use a distraction named Tessa right about now. _Why do I always cave in to helping him?_

“Alright. You sit on the barstool and coach me through this, just be gentle,” she insisted, pointing her finger at his chair.

“You’re not a baking virgin, T,” he chuckled as he sat down.

“Jesus,” she breathed out, swatting her hand at him but missed making contact with his shoulder. She smirked as she picked up the recipe card and read it through again. _Why does everything turn sexual between us?_

_Chill dough minimum two hours or best over night_ , she read to herself.

“Aw shit!” Tessa cursed under her breath. She had somehow missed reading that step. No wonder the dough was so sticky. She poked her finger at the soft mush still sitting on her counter.

“Need a hand?”

Tessa pouted dramatically as she looked up from the recipe card and nodded her head at Scott.

Scott clapped his hands slowly and grinned.

“Smart ass!” she laughed. “Seems I skipped a step, I didn’t chill the dough.”

“There are no shortcuts in baking, T. Well, there are, but...never mind. I guess I’m not great at this coaching thing after all.”

“No! You really are! I’m just a terrible student—”

“Tessa—”

She sighed and started scraping the first batch of dough off the counter and into the garbage can.

“Fear.”

“Huh?” she asked, stopping mid-scrape to look up at Scott.

“Face everything and rise,” he reminded Tessa of one of her training acronyms. “Works for bread dough too.”

Tessa threw her head back and barked out a loud laugh. “Somehow this feels like the blind leading the blind, but I’m going to trust that you’ll still catch me when I start to fall—”

“It’s kinda my job, Virtch.”

“Was,” she pointed out.

“I’ll always have that reflex,” he insisted.

She knew she had to change the subject. _Keep the topic neutral and not about us tonight because that will lead somewhere it shouldn’t._ She looked towards the speaker as it started blasting I Want A Hippopotamus For Christmas, and gave it a stink eye.

Scott knew she disliked the song, so he smiled at Tessa. “Play The Christmas Song by Nat King Cole.”

The speaker did as it was told and Tessa whipped her head around at Scott and back to the speaker and back to Scott, her mouth hanging open.

“You never told me—”

“I most certainly did. You were likely distracted or tuning me out!”

Tessa huffed and felt a wave of nausea. She knew she had to eat something to help sop up all the rum. She marched over to her fridge and yanked the door open.

“You have butter sitting right here, Virtch,” Scott offered, pointing his finger at the two blocks of butter sitting on the counter.

“I’m hungry. If I don’t eat something I’ll puke,” Tessa complained.

Scott had a perfect view of Tessa’s emerald green panty-clad ass as she stood in front of the empty fridge. Empty aside from a bottle of ketchup, a carton of eggs and the eggnog she had been drinking.

Tessa stomach complained loudly as she slammed the fridge door shut. “If I order food, will you stay for dinner?” she asked hopefully, turning around to look at Scott.

“Depends. What are you ordering?”

“Thai,” she insisted. “I’m completely obsessed with it now.”

“Of course you are,” Scott laughed. “How about I’ll order it while you start making _your_ cookies...but I insist you try one of _my_ cookies to tide you over.”

He wiggled his eyebrows at Tessa as he held out a reindeer-shaped sugar cookie. She had forgotten all about the box of treats he had brought. She looked between him and the reindeer twice and finally snatched it out of his hand. It was perfectly baked and nicely decorated but she could tell Scott had iced it; Alma’s cookies never had icing eyebrows on the faces. She giggled at the ridiculousness of a reindeer with blue eyebrows but made a note to add eyebrows on all of her future cookies.

Scott watched Tessa intently as she took a bite of the reindeer’s antlers, closed her eyes and moaned softly. He wondered if the moan was for his benefit. Tessa cracking one eye open to check if he was still watching her, told him that was a yes.

“Good?” he asked cheekily.

“So good,” she moaned again before biting off the two front legs.

“I can’t wait to eat _your_ cookies later,” Scott smirked.

Tessa promptly started choking at his use of their inside joke.

“You want some eggnog to wash that down, T?”

She waved him off and got herself a glass of water, chugged it down in one go, and then glared at him. “I’ll be sure to call Alma later and thank _her_ for the cookies _she_ made for me.”

Scott got up off his barstool and started digging around in the box.

“Get your filthy mitts off my cookies!” Tessa demanded as she pointed her finger towards the box to save it from any further pilfering.

Scott laughed and held up a lemon tart.

Tessa gasped and scurried around the island towards Scott. “I thought you said they were cookies...you never said anything about lemon tarts!”

“There might be butter tarts too,” Scott teased, knowing full well her weakness for pies, especially when they were teeny tiny and one-bite size.

Tessa groaned and tried to take the tiny pie from Scott.

“Ah, ah, ah. Not so fast there, Kiddo.” He held the tart above his head and far out of her reach.

“You cannot hold my treats for ransom. What do you want, Mr Meany Pants,” she pouted dramatically.

Scott laughed again. “Mr Meany Pants? You’re definitely still drunk if that’s the best you got.”

Tessa pressed the front of her body up against Scott’s and then raised herself up on her tip-toes to reach her hand towards the treat. “Give. Me. My. Fucking. Tart,” she breathed out, as close to his face as she could get herself.

Scott knew when he had pushed her too far and he knew when she was mad, but this was beyond mad. This was pissed off Tessa. _Time to give up._

“Open?” he said softly, a grin pulling at the corners of his mouth and crinkles forming at the corners of his eyes. He slowly moved the lemon tart towards her mouth.

“You’re so mean to me,” Tessa grumbled. She opened her mouth and Scott fit the entire tart inside.

“Because I love you?” he joked, poking his finger into her chin.

“You have a funny way of showing it,” she mumbled, crumbs falling from her lips. She knew the love statement was benign. It was said as often between them as any other phrase, but it still pinched her heart a little hearing him say it.

“And you’re a messy eater,” he chuckled, swiping his thumb across her lips, brushing the crumbs to the floor.

Tessa started choking again. _Does he have to bring up sex phrases all the fucking time?_

“Eat much, Virtch?” Scott laughed as he patted his hand on her back.

She chewed quickly and swallowed. “Just order my dinner, smart ass.”

Twenty-three minutes later, Tessa was placing the new dough in the fridge to chill as Scott was accepting the food delivery at the front door.

“Oh my God,” Tessa groaned as Scott entered the dining room, carrying a paper bag filled with food. “That smells amazing!”

Scott had dressed the table with cloth placemats and cloth napkins and Tessa’s favourite Japanese chopsticks; she always complained about the disposable ones that came with the food.

“Thank you,” she breathed out, taking in the sight of the table. He moved about her house as if it were his own and she appreciated not having to tell him things; he just _knew_. It was comfortable and she worried she was being sucked back into his orbit.

Scott poured the tom yum soup from the take out containers into the ceramic bowls he had set out for them. “Soup’s on!” he announced as he put one bowl in front of Tessa.

She laughed as she sat down on the dining room chair. “I’m starving, this looks wonderful!”

“Eat up, you’ll need your energy for later,” he said with a wink.

Tessa’s face blanched as she looked up at Scott. _Was he thinking he was here for a booty call because—_

He noticed her expression and felt the immediate need to clarify. “I mean for baking and decorating your cookies. What did you think I meant?”

Tessa shook her head and started shovelling her soup in her mouth, not even caring that it was scalding hot and searing her tongue. She would do anything to not have to discuss the sex topic with Scott right now. They were not doing that anymore. Sure, it had happened on their last tour, but what happens on tour stays on tour. Besides, they were working on their forgiveness and friendship during the tour and so sex was just part of that. The fact that they were both with other people had never mattered before, and it didn’t now, but she had promised herself she would be over him because he was marrying someone else.

Except now he wasn’t, but she had already given him back his cross. _If only there was some way to get Scott to be the best version of himself permanently, all sweet and loving and kind and doting. Never flirting with other women, even if unintentional, and never straying from our bed. If only we could find the happiness we had shared last spring in Europe and bottle it up...I could be the one wearing a ring and we would be living in Montreal with a dog and planning our wedding. Or maybe we would have already had our wedding and we would be planning out when we would be having babies, probably after I finish my schooling at McGill and once Scott was settled into coaching full time with Marie and Patch—_

“Tessa?”

“Huh?” she asked, shaking herself out of her thoughts.

“I said, are you ready for me to dish out the rest of the food? You seemed like you were a million miles away.”

“Sorry, just stuck in my head.” She lifted the bowl to her lips and noisily sucked back the rest of her soup.

“Jesus, drunk and starving Tessa just tosses all manners out the window, eh?” Scott laughed.

“Yup,” she agreed with a grin as she put her bowl down, even though she no longer felt that tipsy. “Maybe I’ve started my 2020 resolution early.”

“And what’s that?”

“I no longer give a fuck about anything,” she smirked as she stood up, collected their empty soup bowls and waltzed into the kitchen.

Scott raised an eyebrow at Tessa but said nothing. He knew that could never be true. She was too much of a perfectionist and an uptight worrier to not care about anything, but it could prove entertaining to watch her try. He finished opening the containers of food, steam and delicious aromas rising from each one.

Tessa returned with two dinner plates and took a deep breath. “So yummy,” she breathed out. “I’ve had Thai food almost every day since returning from Thailand.”

Scott laughed at her latest obsession. “Sounds like the Tessa Virtue I’ve known all my life. Why change now?” he asked, hinting at her resolution.

“So much is going to be different in 2020, so what’s one more thing?”

*

The cookie dough had not chilled long enough by the time they were finished their dinner, but Tessa had twisted Scott’s rubber arm and convinced him to stay a bit longer to watch a Christmas movie with her to help pass the time. He won a heated game of Rock, Paper, Scissors, and chose Home Alone. The first one, because it was a classic and far superior to the others, he had insisted.

They started out sitting in opposite corners of her family room sectional sofa, but by the time the family had realized Kevin had been left at home, Tessa had two blankets wrapped around her body and was snuggled up against Scott’s side. He chirped at her about making him too warm, but truthfully he had missed their movie snuggles.

“Next year I think I’ll go to Paris for Christmas,” Tessa yawned as they watched the family running through the airport.

“Alone?”

“Perhaps. What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing,” he whispered against the top of her head and pressed a quick feather-light kiss in her hair.

Tessa was so sleepy from all the rum and excitement, but she could have sworn she felt him kiss her. She smiled and let out a shuttered sigh. She had her oldest friend back in her life, if only for today that was enough. On top of that they’d had a mostly amicable afternoon together. She was pretty sure she would wake up later and find she had passed out in her kitchen, snuggling a bottle of rum, but she would relish in the feeling of having Scott next to her, even if all of this was just a dream.

She yawned again and mumbled something Scott couldn’t understand as she drifted off to sleep. He smiled and put his arm around her shoulders, tugging her a little closer to him.

Once the McCallisters had been reunited, Scott turned the movie off. Tessa was still softly snoring beside him. He turned and slid his arms under her body, lovingly cradled her to his chest, and carried her up to her bedroom. After he had gotten her under the blankets, he placed the small blue velvet bag on her bedside table and the cross on top of the bag where he knew she would see it.

“You don’t have to decide anything today,” Scott whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Merry Christmas, Virtch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one-shot started out as an idea swirling around in my head after listening to You Oughta Know by Alanis Morissette a few weeks ago.
> 
> I've often thought about Scott's missing cross. It seems to have been removed sometime between Nov 15, 2014 and January 30, 2015, which lends itself perfectly as a Christmas-time gift to a certain someone, even if they claim they don't do gifts.
> 
> I incorporated some of the lyrics from the song into their fight, I'm sure you recognized them! :)


	3. Happy New Year, Scott

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Twist my rubber arm. You get a bonus New Year's Eve chapter.

“You didn’t tell me what your joke was!” she shouted at him from behind the boards at the Ilderton arena.

Scott physically jumped where he stood at centre ice, shocked to see her, anybody really since there was no one scheduled to be on the ice. He hadn’t heard a peep from Tessa since he had been at her place on the twenty-third, a whole eight days ago. He gave her a once-over as he skated towards her. She looked good, well rested, and her eyes were bright and sparkling. She was bundled up, with a massive pink scarf wrapped around her neck and a big white puffy coat nearly downing her tiny frame, but he knew she was still cold. _Always cold_. In her hand she was clutching a plain red paper bag as she nervously shifted from one foot to the other.

“Hey,” he said with a grin so wide his cheeks hurt.

“Hi,” she replied from behind her scarf, just her jade coloured eyes peeking out from above the pale pink scarf. She was thankful she had it to help hide her ridiculous anxiety over making the last-minute decision to stop in to see him. _Deep breath in, slow breath out. You can do this, Tess._

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” he admitted, checking the time on his phone.

Scott only had forty minutes between bookings at the rink to get the decorations up for the New Years Eve family skate happening that night, and now he was torn as to whether he should stop and chat with Tessa or just keep working. Luckily, she solved the problem for him.

“You need help, Moir?” she asked with a shy smile, her mouth rising from the swirls of scarf.

Scott ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. “I could use some actually. Cara and Leanne were supposed to do this but they got into a fender bender and—”

“Oh my God! Is everyone okay?” she rushed out, pressing one hand to his arm. Her eyes were full of concern for his cousins, regardless of past transgressions.

“Yeah, yeah. Just minor damage to the vehicles, but Cara asked me if I’d handle this decorating shit for them and, well, you know my not so keen eye for—”

“Say no more!” Tessa grinned as she looked at the decorations Scott had laid out along the boards. She placed the bag she had been holding down on one of the benches, along with her purse.

“Here,” she bossed, stacking a few of the larger decorations on top of each other and handing them to Scott. “Tape these along the far side of the rink. Too bad I didn’t think to bring my skates, you’ll have to do all the zipping back and forth.”

“What are you doing here, anyways?” Scott asked as he slowly skated backwards away from her.

“Nice to see you too,” she said and stuck out her tongue at Scott.

“Real mature, Virtch.”

“I stopped by your parents’ actually. I brought Alma some of _my_ Christmas baking to try. She mentioned you were here and strongly hinted you might need help even though you claimed you could handle things.”

Scott grinned and shook his head at his meddling mother while circling back towards Tessa. “What’s in the bag?” he asked, nodding his head towards Tessa’s hand. “You bring me a gift?”

“Yes. Poisoned Christmas inedibles,” she deadpanned.

Scott’s laughter echoed in the empty arena as he leaned up against the boards, still holding the decorations Tessa had given to him. “How did your cookie baking end up going? I never heard from you, figured you fell into the open oven and were burned alive.”

Tessa scoffed. “I didn’t actually get around to it until last night, busy with family stuff and... _stuff_.” She was going to tell him she had gone to Toronto right after Christmas, but since he was going through a recent breakup, she decided to be the bigger person and bite her tongue in an effort to be better than they had been the last year and a half.

“Stuff, eh? Sounds important,” Scott grumbled, figuring she was still with that guy he had heard about. _Too important to text or call me about the cross I left on your nightstand_ , he said to himself while glaring at Tessa.

Tessa shrugged, fairly certain he wanted her to say something about the cross, but she still didn’t know what she wanted, or what was healthy for them to move forward with. His broken engagement certainly changed the path she thought they were on. Besides, she hadn’t had much time to think yet. She had spent the last two days with her sort-of-boyfriend, but he was now gone again for work, leaving her alone for New Years Eve and the first three days of 2020.

“How many batches did you burn?”

“Oh ye of little faith,” Tessa scoffed, rolling her eyes. “They actually all turned out perfect, thanks to the chilled dough. Who knew skipping one tiny step would result in disaster?”

“Well that’s not why they burnt—”

“Anyways,” she sighed, not wanting to re-live their big fight. “You can try them later. What time is the rental?”

“Noon.”

Tessa looked at her watch. “Well you’ll never finish at this pace, you’re too chatty.” She snatched the banner off the boards and shuffled out onto the ice in her white Adidas Stan Smiths.

“I wasn’t chatty until you showed up,” Scott insisted, skating after her with the roll of tape and his decorations.

*

“Is that the last of them?”

“Yup,” Scott breathed out as he looked around at their handiwork. They had knocked it out in just six and a half minutes.

As Tessa started shuffling along the ice in her shoes, back towards the boards, a mischievous grin played on Scott’s face. He skated past her, made a sharp turn, and then skated towards Tessa. He playfully wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her up off the ice.

“Scott!” Tessa shrieked with surprise as Scott spun her around in circles.

“This isn’t skating together, you don’t have skates on,” he insisted, still grinning. He skated her slowly towards the boards, relishing in the feeling of having her in his arms one last time on the ice.

She gave in and put her arms around his neck and her head on his shoulder, inhaling the smell of him mixed with the ice rink, her favourite version of Scott.

“I should get going...plans this aft,” Tessa mumbled into his sweatshirt as they reached the edge of the ice.

“I didn’t get to eat your cookies,” he whispered into her ear as he finally set her down on dry ground.

She heard the smile in his voice as she felt his hot breath on her ear. “Well they’re all yours. Try them later.”

“I’ll walk you out,” Scott insisted as he popped his green skate guards on over his blades.

“Oh, you don’t have—”

“I insist.”

She looked between his skates and his face, twice, but gave up arguing. He was blinking his sad puppy dog eyes at her and she was just too soft for that look, and they both knew it.

Tessa nodded her head at Scott, gathered her purse and the bag of cookies and marched out of the arena, with Scott clomping behind her. Neither said a word until they reached Tessa’s white SUV.

“Cookies?” she said, holding the red paper bag out towards him.

“I want you with me when I nearly die of cookie poisoning. Somebody will have to call 9-1-1 to get me to the hospital to have my stomach pumped.”

Tessa swatted her hand at Scott, making sharp contact with his bicep. He pretended to act as if he were in pain.

“Fine,” she huffed. “I’ll just take these home and eat them myself.”

“But who will call 9-1-1 for you then?” Scott asked with a dramatic pout.

Tessa tried to hold it back but she couldn’t any longer, she let out a loud laugh.

“You gonna swing by for the family skate today?” he asked, leaning against her vehicle.

Tessa shook her head. “I have plans.”

“Important New Year’s Eve plans, gotcha,” he nodded dejectedly.

“Actually, only ‘til about nine?” she admitted, wrinkling her nose. She had planned to end this decade with a glass of wine in one hand and a book in the other while soaking in a hot bubble bath and then going to bed early. Essentially skipping New Year’s Eve all together.

“Stop by after that,” he suggested, crossing his arms across his chest. It was colder outside than he realized. No wonder Tessa was so bundled up. _Should have grabbed my jacket._

Tessa’s brow furrowed. _Stop by where?_ “Are your parents having a party?”

Scott shook his head no. “They’ll be out at a party. I meant my place. I’ll be home...alone. We had plans but it was with her friends so now that’s kinda out and I’m not exactly in a mood to socialize with the fam...so many questions and checking in and whatever. I know they mean well but it just feels really suffocating right now, ya know?”

_Oh, Scott_. She felt bad for him and guilty he was going to be spending the evening alone. “Sure,” she nodded. “Yeah, okay. Sometime between nine and ten? You can eat my cookies then,” she joked with a wink.

“Great! I’m looking forward to it,” he replied, pressing a quick, barely there kiss against her cheek.

*

Tessa jumped when Scott knocked on her driver’s side window. She didn’t know exactly how long she had been sitting there, parked in his driveway, some country music song blasting on her car stereo. She was working up the courage to get out of her car and ended thinking about that stupid George Strait cookies song and hit the button Scott had programmed on her radio to the country station in an effort to get his voice out of her head.

“Were you watching for me?” she asked, opening her car door and looking him up and down, not surprised in the least he was wearing his favourite black Moir’s Skate Shop hoodie.

“No, I heard you driving up, the gravel is noisy. Why were you just sitting here? Forget how to open your car door?”

Tessa shook her head with a grin, not able to put into words why she was nervous and hesitating but feeling relaxed at his teasing. She gathered her things, and followed Scott to his house.

Inside, Tessa took off her pink wool jacket. Underneath she was wearing the silky green wrap blouse that Scott had last seen when they did the French talk show last year in Montreal and tight black pants. His fingertips could still feel how her blouse felt and they itched to touch it again.

_She looks really good_ , Scott thought as he smoothed the front of his hoodie. He didn’t realize he was supposed to dress nice, or else he would have, just to impress her. He was debating on whether or not he should run upstairs and at least change his shirt. Although it would be obvious he was dressing up to match her, not that this was a date or anything, just two friends hanging out for a bit. _Right?_

“Sorry, I’m a little over dressed,” she apologized as she pulled off her black knee-high boots.

_Tess saving the day once again. I swear she can read my mind and I hate it._

“Date?” Scott asked as he hung her jacket up in the front closet. He clenched his jaw, waiting for the confirmation.

Tessa shook her head, thankful she didn’t have to lie or avert the question this time. “No, Mom, Jord, and the sister-in-laws. We saw Little Women and then went out for dinner together.”

Scott felt relieved, even though he knew he shouldn’t feel so possessive of Tessa. They _had_ split up and he _had_ been engaged to someone else...up until recently. “Ladies night, nice. So, I don’t think you’ve been here since—”

Tessa shook her head. “Walls were torn down to the studs last time I—”

Neither could quite finish saying last time Tessa was at Scott’s house because they were both thinking the same thing—how she had shoved him up against the very front door she had just entered through after he had told her he had decided she was right and that the kitchen would look best with white cabinets and marble countertops and dark hardwood floor.

They broke up shortly after that and she hadn’t been back. Well, she had driven by a few times, taking the scenic route to or from the cottage. It was mostly to see if he was there working on it, but she hadn’t stopped, even that time she drove by and he was out front mowing the lawn with his ride-on mower. She was positive he recognized her but neither had ever brought it up.

“Tour?” he offered bashfully, waving his hand towards the living room.

“Sure, I’d like that,” she whispered, still clutching the red bag filled with cookies.

He took her through the living room and then the kitchen, where she placed the bag down on the kitchen island. Next they went upstairs and he showed her two generously-sized empty bedrooms, a main bathroom, followed by the over-sized master bedroom and bathroom; everything finished to Tessa’s style and taste. Everything clean and minimal, lacking a personal touch. Everything looked as if he didn’t even live there.

She didn’t say much on the tour, merely humming notes of approval as he pointed out specific details he thought she would appreciate. They made their way back down to the kitchen and Scott slid the bag along the counter before stopping at the end of the large island and peering inside.

“What are these green ones? Moldy cookies?” he asked, pulling one out of the bag.

Tessa scoffed; offended that he would even think that. “No, they are _not_. Poppy wanted to bake something with Jord and me on Christmas Day, so we made Grinch cookies. Look, his heart is even two sizes too small!”

Scott smiled at the tiny red heart that had been pressed into the pale green cookie. “Okay, that’s adorable.” He sniffed it and then took a bite. “Not bad, tastes like a sugar cookie.”

“And they were so easy to make! Who knew five year olds could be so much fun? Every year she just gets better and better!” Tessa announced proudly. “Anyways, Poppy insisted on sending those with for you.”

Scott smiled wistfully at Tessa. “That was sweet of Pops. You’ll make a great mom some day, T.”

Tessa shook her head and pressed her hand against her chest where her necklace laid beneath her blouse. “Pretty sure I’m no longer taking that route.”

“You never know,” he said softly, giving her wrist a light squeeze with his hand.

Tessa shrugged and willed the tears pricking her eyes to back off. Having kids was a dream she once had. Sometimes dreams change, or die completely when the person you had dreamt of having those children with gets engaged to someone else, and even though now he wasn’t, Tessa didn’t know if she could ever open that door again and let her heart be potentially broken _again_ by the man she would always love.

“Do you want some Tums, T?”

Tessa frowned and shook her head no. _Why the hell is he asking me that? Does he think my cookies will be that bad?_ She continued absentmindedly rubbing her hand over the cross lying beneath her blouse, right between her breasts, as she had done for the past week.

“Shot of apple cider vinegar?”

“Huh?” she asked, her brow furrowed.

“A little ACV to help with your heartburn?” he suggested, pointing his finger at her chest where her hand was still against her sternum.

“Oh, but I don’t—”

“You keep rubbing and pressing on your chest, T. Nothing to be embarrassed over. I get it too, just a thing when you hit your thirties, I think,” he said matter-of-factly as he pulled a bottle of apple cider vinegar from his pantry.

Tessa’s cheeks pinked up. She hadn’t realized what she was doing. She smiled and shook her head. “I really don’t have heartburn, Scott.” She knew they had to have this discussion, and now seemed like the best time to bring it up. She could always leave if it went sideways. “I...I woke up last week, when you carried me up to bed. I heard you say that I didn’t have to decide yet...I felt you kiss my forehead—”

“ _Tess_ —” Scott whispered as he rubbed his hand on the back of his neck. He thought she was asleep. _Shit_.

“After you left, I added your cross to my grandmother’s necklace,” she said softly, pulling the fine metal chain up out of her blouse to show him.

Scott’s eyes widened at the sight of his metal cross attached to one of her most cherished possessions.

“I had hoped seeing it, _feeling it_ , every day might bring some sort of clarity to me...as to where we go from here—”

“And?” he interrupted hopefully.

Tessa shook her head. “I still don’t fully know. I’m sorry.”

“There is no timeline, no expiration date. Ball is in your court...if or when,” he said gently and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. “We either stay like this or become what we were.”

Tessa nodded, feeling relieved there didn’t seem to be pressure from him to rekindle what they once had. That seemed to go almost too well? She had expected more drama, mostly from him. She watched as Scott finished arranging the cookies on a plate, inspecting each one as he pulled it out of the bag.

“Icing eyebrows, nice touch,” he smirked.

“It was a superb idea, glad I thought of it,” she said dryly.

Scott gasped and pretended to act hurt and then promptly bit the head off the snowman he was holding, getting a gasp from Tessa.

“Your cookies,” he started, his mouth full of shortbread crumbs. “Your cookies taste so fucking good.”

Tessa blushed as they made eye contact with each other, both thinking the same thing.

“Remember that George Strait song?” Scott asked as he took another bite of the snowman and wiggled his eyebrows at her.

Tessa immediately looked away and down at the sash of her shirt, her fingers folding and curling the ends of the green satin fabric repeatedly. “Of course,” she finally whispered. “How could I forget you eating me out on my kitchen counter and then blowing your load so hard inside me you almost passed out.”

“Every time I hear it, takes me right back. One of our top five sexcapades, for sure,” Scott chuckled.

“Do you listen to it often?” she asked, boldly looking him square in the eye, to gauge his response on a truthfulness level.

Scott nodded slowly. “She got mad at me a few weeks ago for putting it on repeat. She took a wild guess that I was playing it because I missed you...and you know how I’m a shitty liar with my ear tugging and all—”

“Is that when she threw the ring back?” Tessa leaned in, her eyes wide and her chin propped up on her hand, ready to receive the gossipy news.

Scott shook his head. “Nope. We were fighting. I may have moaned your name in my sleep one too many times.”

He blushed slightly as he raked the fingers on both hands repeatedly through his hair. He had never done it intentionally, but he did dream of Tessa nearly every night. Mostly skating or being on the ice, his dreams were not always sexual.

“Oh,” she said softly, averting her eyes. _Holy shit, this was my fault?_

“It’s fine, this isn’t your fault, okay?” he said gently, putting his hand on the back of her neck and giving it a gentle squeeze. He knew she would internalize things and assume the wedding was called off because of her. “This is all on me. I jumped into things with her too fast and deep down I knew it would never really work out.” Scott took a deep breath to steady himself and to keep the tears from forming. “You wanted to know the joke?”

Tessa nodded, offering Scott a small smile.

“So she threw the ring back at me. How much therapy do you think I can buy with the money I’ll get from returning it?”

Tessa forced another smile on her lips, her heart hurt for him but she was proud of him for putting on a brave face nonetheless.

“I never said it was a good joke,” he laughed half-heartedly as he pulled open the fridge and started grabbing items, stacking them on the marble countertop.

“What are you doing?”

“I picked up your favourite French champagne. Thought we could toast to the New Year and I’m just going to throw together a little charcuterie board.”

Tessa threw her head back and laughed.

Loudly.

For a really long time.

“You mock me, but have you tried my spiced nuts?”

Tessa stopped laughing and started coughing, not sure if he was actually—

_Oh_.

He was holding a glass container filled with mixed nuts out towards her.

“Try one,” he insisted, shaking the container. “I made them myself.”

“How spicy?” she asked cautiously.

“Just try it. I know how much heat you can take,” he smirked.

Tessa leaned closer and peered into the box. She selected a whole almond and could see the spices stuck to it. She winced, anticipating this to be a joke and her mouth would be on fire within seconds.

“Go on, Virtch. It won’t kill ya!” Scott laughed.

Tessa took a breath and hoped for the best as she tossed the almond in her mouth and chewed. _Not bad, actually._ She nodded her head and hummed in appreciation of his spicy nut.

“See?” Scott chuckled as he poured the nuts from the container onto the wooden board, next to a wheel of Brie.

Tessa snatched a walnut off the board as she watched Scott add some crackers, beet hummus dip, a bunch of red grapes, and some julienned vegetables.

“There,” he said, standing back to admire the swirled pattern he had managed to arrange, albeit slightly skewed to the left.

“You don’t have an eye for taping decorations to the wall, but you can swirl food on a wooden board? Moir, I’m impressed,” Tessa beamed.

“All vegan, just for you, aside from the cheese of course. I draw the line at plant-based dairy,” Scott insisted, wrinkling his nose.

Tessa glanced over at the board. He was right, and she hadn’t even noticed his favourite deli meats were missing. She didn’t have the heart to tell him she wasn’t fully vegan and did still eat meat. He has been so thoughtful, picking out items especially for her.

“I have oysters too, if you don’t want any that’s—”

“I do!” she rushed out. “They’re bivalve so it’s fine, I don’t exclude those.”

“I don’t know what that means, but I have this monthly mystery seafood delivery thing I signed up for and the oysters were the product this month along with a tin of Acadian sturgeon caviar, if you want to try it?”

She gasped and nodded. “Fancy. How did that come about?”

“I got talking with this local guy when we were out east for our tour and one thing led to another and now I’m getting seafood for two delivered monthly to a bachelor of one,” Scott sighed.

“So...what’s next month?” Tessa asked, genuinely curious and somewhat hoping for an invite to discover the next shipment.

Scott shrugged. “Every month is a surprise.”

“You did say that,” she nodded, swiping a cashew off the board.

“So you like my nuts, eh?”

Tessa grinned. “Love ‘em. Not too salty!”

Scott laughed and nodded his head towards the plate of cookies. “You bring your cookies, I’ll bring my nuts.”

Tessa swatted her hand at Scott’s thigh just as he turned and she accidentally made contact with his ass instead.

“Sorry!” she quickly apologized.

“Are you though?” Scott chuckled over his shoulder as he left the kitchen carrying the big charcuterie board.

_No_ , _not really,_ Tessa thought to herself as she followed Scott with her plate of cookies.

They set the food down on the coffee table and Scott motioned for Tessa to sit while he returned to the kitchen. Instead of sitting, she grabbed a handful of the spicy nuts to snack on while she took a more in-depth look at his living room. She glanced at the books he had on the white built-in bookcases, all titles she had seen him reading before last summer, and noticed the lack of picture frames and very few personal items. His house really felt like he didn’t even live there.

“Do you have plans to sell?” she asked, her back was turned to him as she stared out the big picture window, but she had heard his footsteps and the clinking of glasses as he set them down.

“Probably in the spring. She refused to stay here so we rented an apartment near her parents’ instead, and truthfully everything here just reminds me of you...and...well...”

His voice drifted off but Tessa knew exactly what he was getting at. She had encouraged him to finish the house as a _project_ ; she had never imagined that he would have assumed they would live there together afterwards. She had a home already, and if she wanted to escape from the hustle and bustle of the city, she had her cottage. She appreciated the gesture in hindsight, but Scott not bringing up the idea of them living there until it was past the design stage had bothered her immensely. He just _assumed_.

“Why did she not—”

“Claimed I made it for you...and it wasn’t her style or close enough to her parents?” He shrugged.

Tessa nodded. “She wasn’t wrong, I guess.”

“Champagne?” Scott offered, grabbing the bottle out of the ice bucket it had been chilling in. “Sorry, I don’t have flutes.”

Tessa looked at the two large wine glasses sitting on the coffee table and shrugged. This was all very _Scott_ , and she found it comforting in a way, like a throwback to all those times they consumed alcohol in hotel rooms in water bottles or paper cups or coffee mugs.

He popped the cork and poured them each a very full glass and they settled down on opposite ends of the sofa. He turned on his big screen television to a channel airing the musical performances from New York’s Times Square.

“That’s still on our bucket list,” Scott mumbled, nodding his head at the crowds gathered for the musical performances and 2020 ball drop.

“For New Years Eve? _Yes.._.but have you decided if you could commit to wearing an adult diaper for the day though?” She side-eyed him as she took a gulp of her champagne.

Scott wrinkled his nose. _Right. That’s why it hadn’t been checked off yet._ “Still not convinced I couldn’t just piss in an empty water bottle.”

“Nope. You’d be arrested for whipping out your dick in public!” Tessa laughed as she grabbed an oyster off the table. “Do you have Tabasco sauce?”

Scott had just dug into the Brie and was attempting to get it and a dollop of caviar onto his cracker and making a huge mess. He looked over at her and then back at his cracker.

Tessa put her oyster shell down and stood up. “I’ll grab it, just direct me.”

“Second cupboard on the left, right hand side, I think?”

Tessa shimmied out of the living room, moving her body to the beat of the music and Alanis Morissette’s voice blasting from Times Square.

She pointed to the cupboard he had said and opened it. On the first shelf she found an unopened bottle of whiskey barbecue sauce, a box of baking soda, and an unopened box of pregnancy tests. She froze, her heart beating wildly in her chest. Had _they_ been trying? Tessa shut her eyes against the box yelling at her. _She_ had wanted to have his loud and energetic children, it hurt her to her core that he jumped into the bed of the first woman willing to say yes. Even more so that it was his first skating partner, if you could even call her that when they skated together for like thirty seconds.

“You find it, T?” Scott yelled from the other room.

Tessa opened her eyes and looked one shelf higher. Sure enough, a new bottle of Tabasco sauce, on the right hand side. She snatched it and slammed the cupboard door shut, the dampening mechanism slowing the door down and gently closing it.

“Yup!” she called back and took in a deep breath to calm herself down before returning to the living room. She then busied herself for several minutes in an attempt to remove the plastic seal from around the top of the bottle, avoiding eye contact and conversation with Scott.

“Do you need hel—”

“Nope!” she insisted.

With the plastic finally removed, she shook the bottle to mix it up and then splashed a little too much on her oyster. Scott watched her intently, wondering why she had returned with a changed attitude; she seemed almost spooked about something.

Tessa poured the oyster and hot sauce into her mouth, swallowed, and then started choking. Scott scooted closer and patted his hand on Tessa‘s back. She motioned towards her wine glass, and he passed it to her.

“Can’t handle the heat, eh?”

“Something like that,” she breathed out, fanning her hand in front of her mouth.

“Try three shakes next time instead of twenty-five.”

Tessa scoffed and rolled her eyes. Twenty-five was a clear exaggeration. She was certain that she hadn’t put more than twenty on it.

“You okay?”

She was, but she was also feeling bold. “Was she pregnant?”

Scott’s eyes went wide and then flashed a painful look that Tessa knew all too well. “Another one of the things we fought over.”

Tessa nodded slowly, as she grabbed another oyster. She jiggled it around in its shell, avoiding eye contact with Scott. “What’s with the box of tests then?”

_Oh. So that’s what this is about?_ Scott groaned. “It was sort of a joke. I bought them, as a gift for her...my way of telling her I was ready for us to start trying and she blew up. She yelled and cried and threw the box at me before storming out of our apartment. When I moved in here, I just shoved stuff where ever. Sorry, I kept meaning to move it…didn’t mean for you to see that.”

Tessa sighed. “That’s not really a good... _gift_ , Scott.”

“Now you tell me,” he mumbled as he got up off the sofa. He returned a few moments later with a stack of blankets. “In case you’re cold.”

She smiled at his thoughtfulness. He was being his best self, just for her. _If only there was a way to keep him like this._

*

They were still half an hour away from midnight and had managed to put away half of the cookies, most of Scott’s charcuterie board, and nearly both bottles of her favourite champagne he had bought. Tessa had her head against Scott’s shoulder and they were both sawing logs, in self-induced food and alcohol comas. Tessa had two blankets wrapped around her shoulders and the other had been spread over both of them, trapping his intense body heat inside their little cocoon while music still filtered from the television.

*

“Sorry, I fell asleep. I should probably get going, I think it’s late,” Tessa mumbled, sitting up in a half-dazed state. Her mouth was excessively dry and she felt a hangover revving into existence.

Scott grabbed his phone off the coffee table and turned it over.

12:47am

“I guess we missed watching the ball drop,” Scott yawned and stretched his arms up in the air. He always slept best with Tessa curled up beside him; she was akin to a security blanket, just the perfect weight and warmth.

“And the start of a new decade,” Tessa said softly, fiddling with the fringe on the blanket that was still draped over them, making no effort to get up out of her cocoon. The room was slightly swimming but her brain was buzzing with too many thoughts.

“I could rewind it?”

Tessa ignored Scott and continued talking. “Did you know, according to English and German folklore, the first person you encounter in a new year sets the tone for the rest of the year?”

“No!” Scott laughed. “You never cease to amaze me with your vast knowledge of useless facts, Virtch.”

“Not useless at all. It will be very useful for when I go on Jeopardy,” she scoffed.

“Still on your bucket list?”

Tessa rolled her eyes and shifted her cocooned body so it was fully facing Scott. “Anyways, the New Year's kiss is supposed to represent an affectionate bond between two people who hope to stay in touch in the coming year,” she added, pulling her grandmother’s necklace out of her blouse and tracing her thumb over his cross.

Scott felt hopeful at the sight of his cross. He moved himself a little closer to Tessa and threaded his fingers through her hair; glad she had left it down. “Is that right?”

Tessa nodded and combed her fingers through his hair, taming the unruly pieces, and then traced her fingers along his sparsely stubbled jawline. “And I’ve just decided that I want to stay in touch,” she whispered, her green eyes flicking up from his chin to meet his hazel ones.

“I’d like to stay in touch too,” he replied, his voice one octave lower than usual, all gravelly and sexy. He still had one hand threaded in her hair, tugging on it ever so slightly, and the other hand was moving over her shoulder and down her arm.

Tessa made the first move, seeing as how he had said the ball was in her court. Her lips pressed against his, soft and tentative to start. She began to pull away, but Scott grunted and urgently tugged her back, deepening the kiss. She wasn’t quite expecting his tongue in her mouth so soon and almost shoved him away in an automatic reflex, but he was tightly gripping her arm and her hair, just the way he knew she liked. She stopped over-thinking about where this _could_ go and aggressively grabbed at his cheeks, as she pulled herself into his lap, her blankets falling off her shoulders.

It was a frenzied dance of hands and lips and tongues moving to a heated rhythm. Tessa knew this was probably not the healthiest thing for their relationship right now, with her sort of seeing someone and Scott just coming out of an engagement. He needed therapy and time to work on himself before they could work on their relationsh—

“Stop thinking so much,” Scott growled as he kissed his way down the side of Tessa’s neck.

“Stop being so bossy and just kiss me,” she retorted.

He did as he was told, several minutes worth of kissing until she pushed him away and tucked her necklace back into her blouse.

“I really should go, but you’ll stay in touch, right?”

Scott nodded. “You too?”

“Yes. Happy New Year, Scott,” Tessa whispered against his lips, stealing another kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, coincidentally enough, Alanis is performing tonight in Times Square!


End file.
